


the stranger crusaders ain't ever wannabes

by StellaLuminova



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Sun & Moon | Pokemon Sun & Moon Versions
Genre: M/M, Slow Burn, colress and faba and their dubiously created lab baby, griselda - Freeform, massive denial up on aether paradise, researchethicshipping, tags to be added as story continues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:07:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StellaLuminova/pseuds/StellaLuminova
Summary: There are three ingredients to creating a lab baby. Scientific curiosity, dubious morals and that one desire to be with a cute scientist.
Relationships: Achroma | Colress/Sauboh | Faba
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. the secret lab baby

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to the lovely deathofglitter, with massive credit for them helping me get this story idea of the ground and making the changes that will make this...AU? AU what it is. (It's probably gonna be an AU of sorts; little mini stories). Without them, this wouldn't exist
> 
> (Also read their fic raytracer for some of that slowburn RES goodness!)  
> \--

There were a lot of things that broke the usual routine of Aether Foundation and of Wicke’s schedule. To see Faba rush in with some sort of bundle in his arms could have easily been an injured Pokemon that required certain medical attention, which while a break in routine wasn’t out of the ordinary. 

Seeing Faba out of breath from running was a little strange but he was still an employee of course. An employee who sometimes thought he was above some of these tasks, but a devoted employee in other ways nonetheless. Perhaps one of the other employees immediately required his assistance? 

Wicke could ponder everything and every little detail when a sharp little squeal caught her ears and Faba was trying to shush whatever⸺no, that cry was distinctly a human baby⸺in his arms.

Faba had a baby in his arms.

_Faba had a baby in his arms. Why was there a baby in his arms?_

A different set of cogs was beginning to turn only to be interrupted with Faba’s hand gripping to her shoulder, almost desperate. His eyes dart every which way, a silent prayer that the other employees mind their business.

“...Faba…”

“I _need_ your help.” Wicke can see it in Faba’s eyes. “Just...follow me.”

“Faba if there’s something wrong you should probably take’ em to a hospital--”

“ _I can’t._ ” Was Faba’s voice wavering? 

“W-what do you mean?”

“Please, just come down to the labs with any medical equipment nearby. Colress is there and⸺”

“What does Colress have to do with this?” Wicke is now suddenly frantic for answers. Why did Faba have a baby? Why did this involve Colress? Hell, why did it involve the labs of all things. But that was to be for later. The former branch chief looked about ready to break down and now there was this infant and that had to be a priority.

Oh the deep waters she’d be treading.  
\--  
Shudders crept about Wicke’s back as she and Faba slowly made into the depths of labs. The little bundle in Faba’s arms made very little noises, occasional sob aside. It hurt Wicke inside to be so hesitant to just grab the child and figure all the details then but not without the fragility of her co-worker in mind. Until she could have him sitting down and the child in front of her could be examined. Still the questions plagued her mind.

One did, louder than the others.

“Why do we need to come down here?” Wicke says, her voice echoing in the halls. Faba’s hunched demeanor goes up straight and he hushes her again, bundle pressed close to his chest. 

Faba at last opened one of the lab door, in the farthest depths below Aether Paradise⸺Wicke faintly remembers being told in the past few months that this one was off-limits in particular. Colress was going about some of the computers, hunched over a keyboard in a frenzy and looking between Faba, Wicke and his computer screen. Between that and Faba’s sudden shaking it became further obvious to Wicke that neither man had any lick of sleep for who knows how long. Days probably. Certainly.

“...Alright, let me see.” Wicke says as she takes the newborn into her arms. Faba continues to stare her down. With everything going on, she’s mentally preparing herself for something awful. Something catastrophically awry with this mysterious child. She unpeels the blanket delicately.

To her surprise and relief, what stared back at her was just a normal⸺if not a little grumpy-looking⸺human baby looking back up at her. A cute little pink thing, Wicke could only guess it was from crying still or from being new. She could only guess on how old this child was. Perhaps only a few hours at best. Eyes of deep newborn blue stare right back at her and close at the light shining down. There was not much hair but there was a distinct strand of green at the forehead. For the most part, this seems like an overall normal child.

It wasn’t enough for Faba, who suddenly began hovering her. “Just _check her already_.”

_Her? Okay, so a girl._ Wicke begins to peel back more of the blanket to see the rest of her. “I think you should check her into a hospital if you’re so worried-” 

Silence. Faba is seconds to swaying into a faint, hands clenching tight. Colress’ movements on the keyboard only type more rapidly, with what seems like new research on that computer or whatever he was studying to be all the more enticing.

The child’s missing a leg. All that remains is a stump, a nub that suggested that one never grew to begin. Gnarled like a Trevanant’s branch. The other leg was there, but honestly didn’t fare much better in comparison. There was patches, what Wicke could presume in the tense moment to be perhaps be scar tissue. 

Any further guess deteriorated as the child’s face scrunched up and a loud shriek followed, the incoming wails reverberating throughout the lab in a haunting echo. Little hands thrashed in vain and Wicke could see little specks of scarring on them.

Wicke’s the one to take the first action moving close to soothe the infant, hastily bundling to avoid anymore of the chilly air. 

Or at least, Wicke thought it was chilly. Maybe it was just her nerves on overdrive with what she’s witnessed. What she can never unsee, what she can never ‘unlearn’. Nonetheless, she gathered the little girl into her arms and tried to soothe to the best of her ability. The diaper was clean, so it wasn’t that. If these two have a kid, then there had to be some kind of formula somewhere.

“Has she been fed y⸺?”

Faba’s the first to move to her question. The lab has another room for storage and he fumbles about for something stored away, giving Wicke some time to focus her attention on Colress. At least Faba’s shown some interest. Colress on the other hand had always been an indecipherable one. A friendly face but she didn’t know much about the man typing away at the computer. Of what? Whatever it was, it’s more pressing than the little hiccupping one. The keening had become fretful whimpers of breath. Yet for a moment when Colress dares glance up those tired eyes tinged on the verge of crying. Has the child always been this fretful for as long as she lived? Could it have to do with the patchy skin? Wicke’s mouth opened, prompting Colress to look down and Wicke to not speak yet. 

What seem like hours was actually minutes when Wicke finds Faba placed a bottle in her hand, and Wicke tried super hard to resist frowning. _Please, please do not expect me to do everything…_  


Wicke brings the bottle to the child’s lips and the child latched quickly. Faba let out an audible sigh of relief, though his posture screamed of the tension seeped within, hand clutching tightly to his coat. Colress looks up from what he’s working on. The only sounds that follow the awkward silence are the sounds of the child, little eyes closed and a small hand curled at a flushed cheek. Wicke’s shoulders droop, finally being able to have a moment of peace herself.  


A moment of peace that gives her the confidence to finally ask, “Alright, what exactly is going on here?”  


She almost anticipated getting nothing more than dead silence.  


“Chief Wicke, we’ve created a child of our very own.”  


Perhaps the silence would have been more comforting.


	2. a child of green and grey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lab baby gets her name.

Nothing but the sounds of the newborn at work eating came about the lab. Wicke wasn’t even sure where to start and begin with that statement. _We’ve created a child of our very own._

The first question, looking at her colleagues was not how—and honestly that _‘how’_ would just give her more questions than answers—but rather _why_. By this point, having worked with Colress for a few years and Faba for the better part of a decade, no logic existed to answer that. She didn’t know Colress well enough and he seemed friendly with the child visitors to Aether Paradise but of course that wasn’t a true measure of how properly the man could take care of children. The man didn’t seem like children or child-rearing was all that important to him. She could very well be wrong; she just didn’t have the proof of that yet. 

Faba. 

It was no secret to Wicke about Faba’s interest in child-rearing or rather, lack thereof. The small mentions in lunch break conversations when they came up. Their aimless goals, their lack of seriousness. Among other things. Personally, Wicke chalked it up to the intelligence and perception of children rather than any faults of their own. Perhaps an adult would be more likely to take bait hook, line and sinker or maybe just play along. A child on the other hand, certainly much more perceptive. So perceptive to see through the whole facade. 

To see Faba with a child and taking care of a child was like seeing...seeing an electric type attack hit a ground type move!

And yet, here the both of them were. Faba and Colress and this little one too down here in the depths of Aether Paradise. Existing altogether as if it was just somehow the most normal thing in the world. As if these two decided in this late March to have a baby. As if the two of them were together…

...But as far as Wicke knew, they weren’t. At best, they were quite adept being each other’s lab partners all things considered. And it's not like either of them had a very noticeable personal life that they shared with anyone on the island. Wicke is lucky to hear if Faba mentions anything that wasn't related to Aether. 

She looks down at the baby girl, full now with formula and looking much more content than she did before. Perhaps that was all she wanted, a simple need. Still, the reaction didn’t let Wicke trust that the newborn was completely at ease. After all, if it was that simple why would Faba run to her for her assistance? Faba may not like children but he wasn’t that irresponsible or helpless. She wasn’t going to risk opening the blanket again; the last she’d like is for the child to somehow become ill at this time at a state ever so delicate. 

“W-what would you like me to check?” The question that actually could escape her lips. 

“Anything. _Everything. _” Faba pleaded.__

____

____

The child didn’t mind being set down, still loosely bundled. She did not appreciate the light but Wicke’s movement made it seem more tolerable. Wicke shifted the blanket to place the stethoscope of the baby’s chest to check for a heartbeat, the little girl letting out a surprised noise at the cold. For a moment, the little girl was about to cry but Wicke’s gentleness soothed the infant long enough for the latter to do the job. She listens carefully, clasping to a small hand that clutched on almost like a death grip.

“Heartbeat seems good. Nothing out of the ordinary or strange.” Wicke says.

“Well…” Colress finally speaks up as Wicke continue her examination. “Except for…” It was a no-brainer what Colress was referring to. 

_The leg._ Wicke thinks to herself. She again has to shift the blanket ever so briefly to examine the leg, no longer having to worry about that initial shock. Colress’ tone of statement didn’t seem to sit quite well. Something about it. She tries to shrug it off in the back of her mind. The most optimistic thought was that it was meant in a different way entirely, something like worry. 

“H-how old is she?” Wicke asked, a lot more bolder.

Colress and Faba look toward each other and then look away. Faba looks to one of his devices and Colress flipping through his papers. 

“Fourteen hours.” Colress responds matter-of-factly with Faba nodding along.

Wicke rolls about the time in her mind. _Then...that was...practically in the early morning._

“How even…” Wicke starts and stops. She clears her throat. “Why haven’t you taken her to a hospital? There’s a lot more they can do if health is the concern here? If she’s sick, she needs an actual doctor or more!”

Colress is the one to let out a chuckle. Certainly not the response to expect from the situation or from the scientist. The gold honey of his eyes glint in Wicke’s direction. “The doctors won’t know what to do with her if there’s something awry.” 

“Won’t know?” 

“This is no ordinary child Wicke.” Colress keeps staring at the woman’s direction, stilly friendly but from the look also that Colress was not playing any games with her. “If something happens to her, you think they’re going to have what it takes? You think they’re going to do everything to save her? They won’t.”

The answer is enough to earn Colress a huff from the woman. “Oh, and _I_ do?”

“ _We do. For now. You as well, and you will know enough to keep this a secret until further notice.” Colress says._

__

__

“You’re not going to throw her into my hands while you-”

“We never said that now did we?” Colress asked. 

Wicke peels back the blanket just a bit once more, to tear at the child with one missing leg and patchy scars on the other. The baby’s face scrunches up but relaxes quickly once Wicke is satisfied checking over her. From initial examinations so far everything seem to be in order and the child seem to be alert enough and breathing just fine. If anything goes awry, it didn’t seem like there would be something out there that doctors couldn’t do to save the girl’s life. 

The branch chief watches her intern and former superior approach the baby, leaning to take the little one’s hand into his own. The baby—it took Wicke a long time to process the fact that Faba was a father now and _he had a daughter_ —gripped her little fist onto Faba’s thumb in an instant. To say that seeing Faba’s eyes soften at the little one, even just for a moment, took Wicke’s breathe away. The little one seemingly blinks into Faba’s direction with a small little noise and a hiccup, as if recognizing him. 

As quickly as the scene laid out in front of her, it ends just as quickly. The way his soft eyes widen when he realizes what he’s doing, the almost ‘polite’ gesture of trying to get her to let go. The girl’s hand clenched into a fist once more with not a thing to grab onto. 

“So, this would mean that you two are her fath-”

“Technically speaking, we are her parents yes. Her creators.” Colress says.

That same speechless feeling bubbled inside Wicke, an awkward silence following. “W-well, does she at least have a name?”

The sudden jolts suggested otherwise. 

“We’ve had...many ideas during this project.” Faba started, his eyes looking for anywhere to gaze but the child, wringing his hands. He turns his attention to Colress, who looked right back a little more invested than the rest of the previous time. “We’ve just about settled on Verdigris, because she’s-”

“ _Verdigris?_ Oh come on guys, she’s not oxidized copper.”

“—she’s a combination of me and Colress...”

“Don’t see anything wrong with the name.” Colress says. 

“Hmm, what do you think you little Pumpkaboo you?” Wicke leans down to the infant, her voice sugar sweet like Milcery cream. "What if Verdigris was your name? You like that? 

The infant makes a little grunt as if to answer. Wicke hums a ‘mhm’. “Well she says she doesn’t like it.”

“We didn’t exactly have a whole bunch of names planned out!” Faba says. “Well…”

“Well what?” Wicke says.

“...Nothing.” Faba mutters. “Well if you’re so good, then what would you recommend _Branch Chief?_ ”

“...certainly not Verdigris.” Wicke rolls her eyes rests her head in her arms, in thought. “Well, let’s see…maybe you could...make find something out of Verdigris? Like...Griselda is a name that might work.”

“...Griselda?”

“Yeah. And you could always call her something like Gris or Zelda if-”

“Yeah, we’re _not_ doing that.” Faba says suddenly, a sudden flash of anger edging in his voice. In another, he eased and gazed at the newborn. He let the name sit on his tongue, judging it on scales. “But I suppose Griselda is not a _bad_ name,” Faba turns to Colress. “What do you say? Griselda works for now?”

“I preferred Verdigris a little more, but Griselda functions as a name for now.” Colress says. Wicke sighs in relief, having spared the child from future strife over a name. 

The little baby named Griselda flashes a smile—pure reflex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Verdigris was actually Griselda's original name; I actually had toss up between the two and eventually Griselda won out. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who sent kudos! 2020 I'm going to try and write more than I ever did last year. Hopefully this second chapter encourages more; my mind had a flash to finish this after working eight straight days in a row.


	3. stragglers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, life is difficult.

It wouldn’t be for another three months that the little routine Colress and Faba had established decided to shatter and fall apart. Round the clock needs, the little milestone of Griselda holding her little head up, the arguably adorable cute onesies Wicke snuck into the depths of the lab…

All that uprooted, Colress would remember, with Faba shaking him away from his chair with one arm. He holds a swaddled Griselda in his other arm, but he doesn’t have to shift to guess that something’s amiss. He doesn’t have to hear the troubled whines from the tot to know that something was wrong. 

As if this was another routine in his life Colress moves without a moment’s hesitation and brings Griselda to the examination table and frees her from her swaddle. The child recoils from the light, from the freedom of her swaddle and reacts with a sharp wail and there’s a struggle as he unshifts one of her arms from the onesie to examine her. It was not surprising of course to see a few patches of scabbing on her limbs; given the nature of her creation and other circumstances this was one of the possibilities that would have resulted.

That, and the possibilities lying before him upon examination. 

The possible organ failure. _As if splicing for DNA itself would produce foolproof results_ , Colress thinks to himself. It was only pure luck, a miracle perhaps, that Griselda made it to three months. A further miracle that these little hiccups decided to show up now versus when she entered the world. 

Colress moved to the devices he had created in the past couple years made specifically for this project. What could have been hours upon days of wasted time finally was showing its proper use, to check the vitals of his...progeny? Creation? Experiment. 

Yes, experiment was more precise. 

I’m just distracting myself, Colress thinks to himself. Griselda’s restless under his hand, her face red and strained. Faba’s anxious energy, while not really an annoyance, certainly wasn’t helping the situation either. Almost like the two were in sync. Colress briefly wonders what that would mean in the long run, the kind of personality naturally bubbling in this tiny specimen should she be able to grow, should she beat the odds. 

He tries to think of something to soothe; he can’t just bundle her back up as she likes to be. He recalls for a moment when Wicke brought some sort of radio weeks prior, having bought some CDs with music for babies, how Griselda turned her head to the sound. The music playing as the adults quietly talked amongst themselves while Griselda fell into her dreamscape. Wicke had left it behind, but the poor thing hadn’t been touched since. He supposes now, it would be the best time.

Hesitations settle. Perhaps it would be better to just sing one of those songs? It would certainly be more pleasing than the CDs, having to play for who knows how long if it meant Griselda would keep quiet. She would be much more familiar with that sound.

If she dies by the hour, by the day, what good would singing to her now do?

Nothing. Fruitless comfort. 

He briefly leaves to set everything together, the soft albeit almost saccharine music filling the practically empty lab. He even fishes out a Stufful plush--another gift because Wicke just couldn’t seem to resist spoiling the little one--and places near the child’s hand for good measure. Reflex takes over and grabs ahold an ear. Open, close, open, close. In moments, Griselda is plenty distracted. Well, distracted enough. Small, strained sounds of discomfort slip from her mouth. 

Carefully, cautiously, Colress quickly hooks the infant up to the machines. In a flash they could detect the little missed aspects of the child’s make-up, the missing pieces that tried ever so to keep her together. In mere seconds, the machine whirrs to life. 

Faba’s finger impatiently tap a rhythm out of the sync of the nauseating melodies, almost breaking Colress’ concentration as he brought about to bring his notepad. Griselda makes a few noises to the feeling of the sensors, before the whining began to persist once more. Whatever was causing her some distress became back full force. Once more, Colress rests his hand over the infant’s tiny body to prevent her from thrashing about. Ever so efficient, the machine wastes no time pinpointing.

Colress’ fingers brushes at Griselda’s foot, her toes curling on reflex. He feels her single delicate ankle between his hands. A little puffy. Colress’ eyes widen a little, just out of sight from Faba. Last thing he needs is to rile the man up in a tense situation like this.

“Let’s run this again…” Hand clenched.

The tests start up again. Unclench.

The results are the same. Hand clenched.

One more time. Clench. Unclench. Clench. Unclench. Griselda’s restlessness starts up again in the form of little noises of discomfort.

“Well!?” Faba shouts and Griselda reacts instantly. Her little limbs fling as far as the blanket around her allows. Practically in synch, Colress thinks to himself. 

“Now, don’t be alarmed when I say this, but….” Colress starts and the agitation blooms throughout Faba into further distress, much to his dismay. “...she’s experiencing some early stages of kidney failure. I’ve already got the machines preparing for dialysis but we’re going to keep a further eye on her.”

“What if she-”

“She’s not going to die Faba. Let’s give her some credit at least, she’s outshining our expectations so far.” 

Faba runs a hand through his thin hair. “But she’s still-”

“Like the others yes, incomplete in structure. Still, she’s been the most stable we’ve had.”

Faba looked to the floor. 

“We’ll be keeping an eye on her progress.” Colress says, working to make preparations. 

“What if it gets worse?”

“Then we’ll do what we can.” 

“By keeping her...alive?” Faba says, his voice faltering at ‘alive’. He glances down at the still struggling infant. 

Only though, in his mind, it’s not Griselda laying there.

For a moment he sees...Type: Full. All three of them. All three Type: Fulls becoming Type: N-

_No, what are you doing thinking like that? She’s not a project, she’s a person. A part of his mind races. She’s nothing like a Type: Null.  
A person you created, just like how you made them. Besides if she isn’t like them, then why does she have-_

__

__

She was not made to be like them!

_But she was still made. And just like the rest of them, you’ll fail with her too._

Colress blinks to look at Faba, for a moment forgetting about the man in the room. In the light, he catches a glimpse. “You’re crying.”

“...I-I am?” Faba struggles to catch his voice, and Colress remembers for a moment: how different they were. This whole experiment did a good job in showing how drastically they took to this, and the longer they participated the more of that energy of Faba’s whirling in the air around them. That persistent, highly strung energy that made up a lot of this former branch chief. Tempered enough, to humorously partake in such an experiment, knowing damn well from it all what would be to come out of it. But not tempered enough to handle it with a level of calm. 

Quite endearing, even if Colress would never admit out loud. How attached he’ll get.

“Yes, you are.” Colress says, before pausing. He approached Faba, placing a hand on his shoulder. Faba is taken aback for a moment, but Colress can see for a moment that particular ‘melting’ moment. He wonders ever so briefly, what Faba really feels at that moment. For this whole situation, for Griselda. For _him._

“It’s going to be ok.” Colress says. Faba’s eyes close, and Colress wonders if it would be good then for his hand to wander, to cup Faba’s cheek and to-

Griselda lets out a shriek, breaking the silence of the moment. The two look towards her and at each other, moving away from each other. Faba inches toward Griselda, still hooked up and squirming. Leaning down, he brushes a hand over the soft head of straw-colored hair and whispers a quiet _“shhh”._

The little baby looks towards him, bright baby blue eyes, glossy with whatever ails her and what would come. The expression for a moment, reminds him of Null.

Terrified.

And Faba was too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who continues to and will continue to stick around. Thanks especially again to deathofglitter, for being a big part of why this story exists.
> 
> OH GOD FINALLY, this was hard to put together so I apologize for the quality. Been busy with work and I just didn't know how to go about this chapter for the longest time (between trying to do a bit of reasonable research and the like). From here on out, this should be a whole lot easier because I know what I want to write for the next chapter or so.


	4. you are the angel that I couldn't kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What exactly does she mean to you?

“I’ll make the run today.” Faba says the moment the topic is brought up that day, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands to fight back the lack of sleep. His eyes try and fail to avert the giant incubator-like machine. 

“That’s fine, I need more time to work on this anyway.” Faba wishes that Colress’ voice would betray him, wishes that Colress would beg him to stay just a little bit longer. But then, that wouldn’t be Colress speaking. _One of us has to be calm, I suppose._

Colress moves with the utmost precision, there and back between computer keyboards and the incubation machine where Griselda lay. The girl thrashes helplessly for a moment, wires all over her body before it subsides. She didn’t seem to know what to do with herself, in her infant panic. The heart monitor at that same time spiked with her agitation before falling below again. Colress moves even more briskly, the computers identifying detections of failure.

“Not again...” Colress mutters under his breath, hand clenched into a fist. A shaking one, and Faba wants to move and say something. Hold onto that clenching hand and wonder.

Is it worth doing all this still? 

A muffled squeal distracted him from it, and his minds tread darker waters. 

_Don’t even consider it._

He almost felt certain Colress would agree if he repeated the voice in his head. After all, Griselda made it this far. An incredible feat, all things considered. Every passing day was another set of notes or perhaps some kind of new discovery to Colress’ research. Something new to the concept of DNA splicing and recreation. 

_Faba, take a look at this!_

_Faba you won’t believe what I’ve discovered._

_Faba what do you think?_

Those little phrases were quick to twist and prod through Faba, inching their way to his heart. For just a few seconds, listening to Colress speak about his discoveries melted all the troubles. Normally, whatever Colress said also had a way to drive his ire. For a moment he could forget about where his life was now, at a monotony of a standstill. He could forget he wasn’t the branch chief anymore, and forget the mistakes he made to fall. He could forget the scorn and bask in the scientist’s attention.

He could forget everything about what ailed Griselda.

And he could forget Griselda…

He could forget about Griselda for just a split second, and then look at the notes and back at her again. He cannot forget her, even for a moment.

He glances at Colress, at this week’s salary in his pocket. “...I’ll be heading out. Be back in a bit.”

“I think we need to implement more regenerative cells this time.” Colress says.

But Griselda is a permanent mark. 

\--

The Thrifty Megamart was not the place Faba had expected to want to be of all places, but compared the sterile sounds of machines working among other things, it was a small oasis. A paradise away from Aether Paradise. He looked through his basket, light items that could make for easy meals for two, a pack of formula and diapers neatly tucked away like a secret. He took his time going through the list, careful not to miss anything. Anything to prolong the stay.

It was bad enough to continue trying to work his way back up to his former title, having to deal with the usual scatterbrained workers and the mindless paperwork of an intern. Trying that with an infant screaming well into the day and into the night on top of it? 

Pure hell. Faba runs a hand through his thin hair, mussed with a lack of sleep, remembers for a moment his distaste for children as he wonders again through the baby aisle. 

It was pure hell, but then again he couldn’t blame Griselda for the hell. 

Especially the times when the scars on her arms and one leg peel painfully when there is a moment she’s not under some kind of induced sleep. There was no clear rhyme or reason they had at that moment but it was something that was amiss. Was it just a regular skin condition she just happened to be created with or was it a side effect without a treatment? The other times it’s the missing one, aching for what’s not there.

Especially when there is one failure after the other, just as one thing is fixed something else fails or whatever was meant to fix the first. What started with the early start of kidney failure and dialysis blossomed into a host of problems, due to the poor girl’s unsteady DNA. Faba’s brow furrows thinking of the girl’s endless cycle. She barely learned how to crawl and babble little sounds before things began to go for the worst, not being just her kidneys.

Her body rejected itself. 

Treatments failed. Transplants, ever the risky, worked for maybe a few weeks? A few weeks and then like a machine, malfunctioned once more. Relief was temporary. 

Why did his heart especially hurt, when he couldn’t even provide comfort? 

_Because it’s foolish. When that time comes, what can you do? It will be just like with Full. You will be the failure you always have been._

Was it guilt bringing him back around this particular aisle? He walked past the usual wares, diapers and powder before he stumbled on the aisle beside it. Books and magazines stretched through almost the entire row, in particular he was near the end where children's books lined the bottom rows. He finds himself looking down.

_Do not get attached._

But the more the three of them stayed in the recesses of Aether, the longer Griselda away from the sun and the sky and the sea, without much to comfort her other than plushies at her fingers and the deep sedation to ease her pain…

What a life. The more he thinks of the child’s existence, what she only knows, the more bleak he feels of the entire thing. 

Faba wonders, how good was it even to keep her alive when all it is doing is hurting her? Was her little will so strong that she persisted in whatever treatment or meticulous almost impossible surgery, be it for her own sake or theirs? Or was it not by her will at all, and more of just his and Colress' attempts to keep her alive? Playing God.

Not like he has never done that. 

Why? Faba absentmindedly runs his hands over the covers, kneeling down and picking up a book with a rather cozy cover. 

"Oh, hello Mr. Faba.” The polite, chipper voice nearly made Faba drop everything over. His eyes glance over at the familiar sight of Lillie. From the scraps of his memory, he recalls that she was finally back from Kanto with her mother. 

_Is that what parenthood is somewhat like, for everything to blend together? Is a child all that?_ Somewhere amongst the work and the care of little Griselda, any other announcements faded into the background. Life simply continued on as his mind focused on his exper-

Child.

With his child. 

He missed the memo (or perhaps, he just shoved into the bucket of denial) that Gladion had become the permanent Aether President. Perhaps, in a dimension where his child didn’t exist, he would have argued such a thing. After all, Master Gladion was still a child himself, his mind too hardened to think of the good of the company. 

Now, well… 

That was obvious. 

“Faba?” A voice caught him off guard and his head swiveled to see Lillie of all people. And to add to the experience, his phone began to buzz at the same time.

“Miss Lillie…” Faba focuses attention on her. He already knows what to expect, who else would it be other than Colress. Some new problems with Griselda. What else would it be?

His heart won’t break. Surely it won’t. 

His phone keeps buzzing.

“Interesting...seeing you here.” Faba speaks, focusing his sight on Lillie. 

“Just getting a few things for Mother. I know she’s doing a lot better and all but…” Lillie trails off. Faba knew of how detrimental Nihilego poison was and what it did to a body. Dutiful daughter, obedient daughter despite everything. That was Lillie then. Dutiful, kind Lillie. After everything, she found it in herself to forgive her mother for all her transgressions, for all that behavior. Such a stark contrast to Gladion.

He hasn’t much of Lusamine yet to see what has or hadn’t changed. He had more pressing matters of course. When did he not?

“Very well…” He finally mumbles. He closes his eyes. His sockets seep with exhaustion. His phone buzzes once more and his hands shake with the urge to drop everything in the basket, take out his phone and slam across the aisle. “...how’s…?” 

“How’s what?”

“You’re still not back as Branch Chief yet? Moon mentioned something about a new you when I spoke. I wanted to hear it from you.”

Faba resisted the urge to chuckle then and there. How could he forget that promise he made in front of the Champion?

“I think your brother is still angry with me, after what’s all said and done. But he sees me among the rank and file, doing the mundane chores that I’ve done before he was even born that it was nothing. It is still nothing, don’t you know? And I’ve done as I should. Can he see how dedicated I am? I’ve been so bored, perhaps he’ll finally get his head on straight and see my skills can be put to use much better.”

Lillie only nods. 

He was the great Faba, he was only telling her the truth after all. Even when everything is said and done, people just had to get comfortable with that fact. 

“What’s with?”

“...the book?”

Lillie rubs her hands together, looking every which way. 

“Oh this isn’t for me. I was just looking at the cover…” Faba says, smiling. “I do believe the professor and his wife are expecting right? I can't personally come to their shower but you know-”

“...they had their baby several months ago?” Lillie said. “In August actually.”

“Then it’s a late...birth gift!” Faba chuckles. 

Lillie turns on her heel, with both of them seemingly more than happy to 

“Also um, Faba?” 

“I’ve been hearing around from the workers about...some kind of sound down below. I thought it was some kind of new...spooky story but sometimes I think I can hear something. Though only when it’s quiet at night. ...You wouldn’t know anything about it, would you?”

“Pray tell, what makes you think I would know?” But Faba felt he already knew the answer. They both did, and as much as Lillie probably wanted to suggest the thought out she said nothing. 

At least not to him. 

Aether spent the last decades on secrets and it wasn’t ready to give it up. Faba shook his head as Lillie moved about with her own business. 

His fingers dig into the book.

What else could he say to Lillie? What could he say to Gladion? What could him or Colress say to anyone? Wicke only knew because she was trustworthy enough and also of help. 

_Hey, Colress and I created the biggest mistake of our lives but we are unable to undo it._

Too prideful to give up, too proud to find some help. 

He ends up purchasing the book. But he doesn’t touch it when he gets back. 

Griselda is asleep when he gets back.

\--  
Faba has a million things to say. To Gladion and Lillie, to Colress, to Griselda.

But he cannot say them.

Time disappears. There is not much break in between the days. His nights involve him staring down at the incubator. Griselda slept on.  
\--

Griselda is awake. 

It's been two weeks since the synthesized heart was placed into her center. She had been kept asleep the entire time to have the scar properly heal and now she was awake.The recovery looked very smooth, the cells of Regenerator-abled Solosis working their so-called magic and keeping her steady. Looking at her center, the scars had fully closed together.

The machine worked to lift the little one and change the dressings of the bed, the movement never failed to draw the girl's ire and the wails would start up in earnest. Before, they were sharp and powerful, demanding. Now there was this sense of exhaustion to her cries, having spent a lot of her months being able to do nothing but that.

Colress wasn't here, it was his turn to make rounds to the store, and he was a lot more meticulous. Faba was not quite sure why he felt relief for the moment, but he knew it made what he was about to do a lot easier.

This is something that we should have been doing with her together.

But can I even do this again, if there is an again? What if she dies in my hands right now?

The basin was prepared with soothing water in the sink. Faba clicks a series of buttons, and the machine cracks open to reveal Griselda, too tired to really move and thrash, let alone cry out in what would be fear or distress. 

“Hello, Griselda.” Faba is gentle as can be to pick her up. The poor girl's hair is matted and tangled. Tiny veins trace down her eyes, eyes of startling chartreuse staring right up at him. Faba flinches back from her stare. 

_Why?_ Her tired eyes pleaded.

_Why?_ He asked right back.

_Why am I doing this?_

He sets Griselda into the water. Griselda's first reaction was to jerk her one leg and screech out a cry, but eventually as the water slides up to her torso she settles. For the first time since she woke up, heck for the first time in ages maybe even the first time, she actually looks at peace. It’s warm and soothes the patchy wounds of her skin. Her little hand, curled into a fist, finds a way to her mouth and she is content to chew on it. Faba holds her up to let her 'float' and she even starts to babble out a few sounds too. Nothing like words. Faba finds himself breathing in deeply, her sounds almost like a song. If she got through this, there was no telling what she’d need to catch up.

"See? Not so bad." Faba says, squeezing a glob of the shampoo into his hands, rubbing them together and he worked on her hair first being absolutely careful to not have any of it fall into her eyes. Griselda was too tired to resist but she didn't seem to mind at the same time. Her lemon eyes, still glossy, became lidded and a little droopy. Faba is careful but diligent to get what tangles were in the hair, his pointing finger glides across the long lock of green. Once satisfied, he worked water through the lathering, keeping a washcloth just above the girl's face to keep the suds away. He brushes through hair to detangle it completely. Griselda's hair at the end of it, looked a lot better. Surprisingly, rather than stick down to her head her hair chose to stick up and poof out. Almost like a bird Pokemon. Faba continues washing the rest of her body, Griselda occasionally making little content noises.

It wasn't much longer until the whole process was done, most of Griselda scoured pink. He lifts her from the water and the reaction to the open air is sudden Faba nearly dropped her. Despite all that exhaustion, she starts up again. _She liked being swaddled, of course._

So he sets her down.

And he removes his coat. He sets Griselda in it.

You are foolish: ruining a good coat just to hold her?

Faba folds the collar over and begins to fold the rest of it up to ensnare the baby. Griselda’s features seem to be all the more prominent in her scrunched face and it was like staring at himself almost. He remembers the ‘squabble’ he had with Colress about it, how he had to fight for their child to resemble him more and how he had to compromise with the child having that flip of hair.

That flip so silly yet on Colress, just…

Faba swallowed a lump in his throat. 

_I just want to tell you that I..._

Perhaps it wasn't so bad that she had it, it complimented their combined features. 

Faba finds a chair to the side of the room and holds onto Griselda in one arm and fishes through a drawer with the other. Underneath all the paperwork, shoved deep inside, was that book he bought from the Megamart. The chair wasn’t exactly comfortable, not the kind of thing to comfort a baby in but it would have to do. He shifts Griselda to rest against his chest and hold the book in his lap. Little curled fists trapped in the coat beat against him but Faba tried to pay no mind, opening to the first page. _She’s just trying to get comfortable when she is not used to people holding her._

_Or maybe…_

Faba tries. He tries really hard, his voice trying to be just the right amount of soft, the right amount of tender. Griselda wrestles against him almost constantly as if protesting. Like little pleads, _why now why now and not then._

That’s what Faba would like to think she was asking him, and perhaps he could have an answer to that. 

_Now was the best time?_ But that wasn’t comforting and not entirely the truth.

_It was hard to love you then? It’s hard to love you?_ Could he even say that out loud? Was it even true?

It was not safe to, she could have died without any of this. But if Griselda could understand what was said, would she forgive him? Would she stop fidgeting frantically?

She’s not used to people holding her, he tries to remember. He tries to secure in the crook of his arm but little seems to work.

_She’s fighting against you because she hates you. And can you blame her? All you’ve done was make her suffer longer than she had too._

Faba swears that everything-the lab, the machines, synthetic hearts and livers, Griselda herself-are going to choke him and rake him to the ground. His fingers bend a page of the book as she protests more. 

_She’s suffering like Full was. And she’ll die and you’ll fail and what will you have? Nothing. Failure. That’s what you are._

“But I’m not a failure…” Faba finds himself mouthing. Griselda’s movements demand the opposite. Just keep reading. She’ll get calm soon. 

_You know why you are trying to keep her alive._

The tired whine starts up again, Griselda reeling her head back as she starts another futile, exhausted howl. Was it tiredness? Was it pain? Was something not working again?

Faba dropped the book almost immediately, yanking the squirming child away from him and back into the incubator. He tried to go backwards, putting everything back as to regulate her once more. Maybe she wasn’t ready, he had waited too early. 

No, everything was fine. The machines didn’t detect anything. 

One. Fine.

Two times. Fine.

Three times. She’s okay. 

He let his guard down, let his heart bleed for a moment and this is what he gets. 

When one of her little arms escapes her bind and she gurgles for air in the depths of Aether, he still takes it anyway. His gloved fingers holding onto the little hand and in that moment she yielded on.

“Griselda...Gris. Please…” Faba hated to be in this moment. This was meant to be an experiment, but how foolish he was. How wr-.

“Can you understand me Gris?” Faba looks straight down, blue to chartreuse. And something about that question has the baby settle down. She’s distressed still, but she’s listening to him. She’s all there and she can hear him.

Griselda scrunches her face and hiccups.

_If you die on me..._

“I understand what you are going through right now, it’s not fun…I probably...shouldn’t even be talking to you.” This entire time, he realizes he had not put his gloves back on. Despite everything, her skin was still so soft. Fragile. “But I can’t...you can’t die on me. If you die, I couldn’t...”

_I don’t want to fail again._

Gris squeezes the fingers with her baby might, as if she could understand. 

_I could not forgive myself._

He opens his eyes. Gris is looking at him, drops of something on her cheeks. They weren’t her tears. She looked at him, only a grunt of confusion coming out in return.

_...no._

He was crying. 

He let go of her hand. She didn’t protest much. He inches away from the incubator.

_You’re too fragile._

He wants to run, he knows he's edging to the door. He needed a moment. 

To add to the mounting feeling of dread, Gladion was at the door. Wide-eyed. The room contained everything, catered specifically to what Gris was: her creation, her existance. 

“Intern Faba…”

There is a loud screech from the crib, maybe a cry for help. Maybe just a greeting.

He couldn’t stop Gladion from going over to the incubator, catching sight of Gris, still loosely swaddled in Faba’s lab coat.

“...Intern Faba, who is this?” Gladion’s voice teeters between rage and disgust, all directed towards him.

_My experiment? No. My child? No._ Faba readies himself, tries to blink those tears away. 

“This, Gladion, is Griselda.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to say thank you again, to everyone who has read this story and decided to keep on looking out for when something happens.
> 
> Special thanks goes to the Fabacon server especially, for helping me bounce around this story. In these times right now, your guise' company has been the utmost blessing and I couldn't have met better people. Thanks to Jade again, for being the match to light this story.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy to get this off the ground! Bare with me, work and all. Chapters will come as they formulate.


End file.
